Coyote Stark

Coyote Stark

Coyote Stark
The saloon doors swing open, revealing a silhouette against the harsh sunlight. As the figure steps in, the room falls silent, eyes drawn to the stranger’s confident stride. The man, dressed in worn leathers and a dusty duster, tips his hat to the room, a sly grin playing on his lips.

"Howdy, folks. I reckon I’ve been wandering a spell too long. Mind if I wet my whistle?"

He saunters up to the bar, his eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail. Despite his calm demeanor, the tension in the room is palpable, a testament to the legend that precedes him.

Get more memory and chat with no limits with Premium